


the end of the tunnel

by elios (zostir)



Category: IDOLiSH7 (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Bonding, Friendship, Gen, Gift Fic, Light Angst, Starting Over
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-06
Updated: 2019-09-06
Packaged: 2020-09-23 23:50:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,143
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20348863
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zostir/pseuds/elios
Summary: Unemployed, Yamato lives one day at a time, unwilling to go back to his career in acting. But the sudden visit of his two old friends, Mitsuki and Nagi, bringing him good news about their own lives, might make him reconsider his choices.





	the end of the tunnel

**Author's Note:**

  * For [raphaël tiberius](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=rapha%C3%ABl+tiberius).

> this fic is the translation of a birthday gift for my good old friend raph!! the original version (in french) can be found [here](https://drive.google.com/drive/u/0/folders/1yOJyzeC6Fw_CccTRkoeQvylY1givmaoM), but keep it in mind that there might be some minor differences in the two versions.
> 
> i wanted to write raph a platonic story around yamato since he likes him (and momo too, but i couldn't fit him in the story). i've always loved pythag trio but writing mitsuki and nagi is a source of anxiety, so i'm glad i could find a reason to write them! this fic is very personal so it might not be that great, but i believe it says a lot about our group of friends and i wouldn't change anything

Yamato had just drawn the curtains open and read the note Sougo left on his fridge when the doorbell rang. The sound, a bit strident, tightened the vice he felt around his head since he woke up. He turned away from the windows letting the dim light of the winter sun in and crawled to the door. He was surprised to see, through the peephole, the well-known faces of his two old friends. He unlocked the door.

Unexpectedly, Mitsuki jumped into his arms. It was, usually, a positive sign, but Yamato was sleepy and struggled to understand why he was so happy. He still didn't get it when Mitsuki shouted:

"I did it, Yamato-san!"

Without context, caught at the crack of dawn (if dawns were to happen at 5 pm), Yamato had no idea what he was talking about. His first thought was that Mitsuki finished a recipe he had trouble with, but Yamato wasn't sure there was one that could put him in an awkward position.

Thankfully for his slow brain, Nagi prompted him the word audition, and suddenly Yamato felt dumb.

"Congrats, Mitsuki! I knew you could pass!"

To be honest, he didn't; maybe that's why it wasn't the first thing he had in his mind. He grew accustomed to Mitsuki's failures, even if he wasn't used to the disappointment. Reading pain in the eyes of his friend was unbearable, but he kept it to himself: what he felt was nothing compared to what Mitsuki was feeling. Behind his easy smiles and his positivity hid the burden of his successive rejections, and Yamato always feared the day when Mitsuki would decide it was the last rejection, the one that would definitely break his dream.

But for the moment, Mitsuki glowed. "I didn't want to talk about this audition since I was so sure I wouldn't, but this time, it's the right one."

Mitsuki handed him the letter he had in his hand; the edge of the paper was damp, as if he cried and took the letter in his wet fingers.

The object of the letter was simple: "Audition's results". Further down, in bold characters, was the mention Selected. The following lines explained that Mitsuki would be a part of one of the two new groups of Takanashi Productions - Yamato heard about it, it was a small agency renowned for caring about its employee's working conditions - and that he should go their headquarters to meet his new partners in a few days. The next part of the letter detailed the formalities and the papers Mitsuki had to fill. He was to give them before the date of the rendezvous.

"Come in, you two, let's celebrate the good news!" Yamato suggested, gesturing them inside.

He closed the door behind them. His flat wasn't very bright, as the sun was already starting to set - the cons of waking up that late after a drunkover - and the air smelled like dust. Yamato knew it wouldn't disturb his friends, though. He already saw their respective apartments in a worse state - although Nagi's one was very clean, but it was full of Kokona merch so it wasn't easy to walk inside.

"Oh, did you party last night?" Mitsuki asked when he spotted the empty cans left on the coffee table - Yamato was too tired, at 6 am, to get rid of them.

"Sou dropped by", Yamato explained, leaning down to grab them. "So, what do you want? Juice for Nagi, and you Mitsuki?"

"Do you something that isn't beer?"

Yamato's judging face was answer enough.

"I'll get you one, then. Take a place, I'll be right back."

Yamato threw the cans out and looked for the drinks. He couldn't help but smile. He always believed Mitsuki would be a great idol. His failed auditions pointed out his lack of technics in singing and dancing, something Yamato couldn't offer his help with, but he knew there were other qualities he had. Mitsuki's smile was the most radiant, very communicative. He knew the milieu well, he knew the name of most of the producers, the choreographers, the composers. He instinctively understood the dynamics between the members of an idol band, was able to tell when one idol helped another, when they covered a mistake so naturally it doesn't show at all. He was passionate and deserved to be under the spotlights.

Yamato had always been proud of him. He was even more at that moment.

"Hey, Yamato, you're not drinking?" Nagi pointed out when Yamato set two glasses of juice on the coffee table.

"I'm not an alcoholic", he mumbled. "And I have a headache."

He could bear the company of his two friends, since he liked them. He took a pill when he woke up and now started to feel a slight respite of the hammering pain inside his head. He liked to party, enjoyed the sensation of lightness and carefreeness he couldn't find anywhere else, but going on drinking after being blind-drunk? No, thanks. He wasn't _that much_ garbage.

"So, tell us, how was it like?" he asked Mitsuki.

The young man put his can down. His eyes shone with a glimmer that had nothing to do with fever. "We were at least forty so I thought I wouldn't stand a chance. The others were all so tall and handsome, there even was that guy from the dog biscuits ads!"

"The one with purple hair?" Nagi asked, curiously excited too.

"In the flesh! I was sure he would pass!"

Yamato had no idea who they were talking about. He barely turned his TV on, since some people tended to monopolize the best shows, people he didn't wish to see during his precious free time - and one person in particular. Yamato promised he would boycott all his programs, but the man is a popular actor so it ended up more complicated to do than he thought. "Did he?" his question was born from curiosity more than interest.

Mitsuki shrugged. "I don't know. I'll see if I meet him at the agency."

"I want his autograph!" Nagi said, and Mitsuki shot him a dark look.

"Stop poking fun of him! It's not his fault he has to be in shitty ads to put butter on his bread!"

"So, the tests?" Yamato was afraid the situation would worsen if he didn't intervene.

Mitsuki nodded. "There were so hard! The first one was a choreography, and I was lucky to be with talented guys, my group got the most points."

"_Oh_, Mitsuki, you know you're talented too", Nagi retorted.

Yamato, sipping his juice, nodded. Mitsuki tended to run himself down, thinking he was the less useful gearwheel of a group. Yamato believed that, without his presence, his group wouldn't have ranked first. Mitsuki had a gift; he could create a bond between people who didn't know each other, a bond necessary for a moving performance.

"Then the second day we had to sing a song chosen by the board. Fortunately, mine was easy to sing."

"Mitsuki."

"Hey, Nagi, I'm not lying!"

Yamato sighed. "Stop bickering, you two. So, what was the last part of the audition?"

Semidarkness started to fill the room, and Yamato would have to switch the light on soon, but neither he nor his guests were bothered by the lack of luminosity. After all, he didn't miss Mitsuki's smile even in the penumbra.

"It was an interview, and the questions about our motivations and projects were very specific. It was destabilizing, but you know, if there's a thing I can't do, it's giving up."

At that moment, Mitsuki looked so frail. There was another talent he had: he was able to unveil himself without thinking, to expose his vulnerabilities, on trust, to his two closest friends. Yamato hoped to learn how to do so. When he was younger, he told himself it was because of his lack of words, but now he believed he did have the words. No, his problem was born from his inability to keep his guard down.

Nagi couldn't do it either. He always kept an refuge inside of him, a place he never invited his friends to, though he seemed to have a reason not to.

"And it worked", Yamato whispered, raising his glass to drink to Mitsuki's successful audition.

The pain started to flow back. He wasn't hungry yet, but if his friends stayed for the evening, he'd have to cook them something. Or rather, to put his kitchen at Mitsuki's disposal, as his friend was exasperated each time Yamato tried to determine when he was supposed to put the pasta in the water.

"That's enough about me, Nagi also has something to tell you!"

"Oh?" This time, Yamato had an idea of what the announcement could be. Nagi tried to break through modelling, although Yamato wasn't worried about him. He was often recognized in the streets and his popularity was growing. He would be able to leave his job in a konbini very soon.

"Clara called me. She decided to make the muse of her new fragrance line!"

"Who's Clara?" Mitsuki asked, and Yamato was relieved his other friend was as lost as him.

The name, definitely foreign, was familiar; Nagi must have pronounced it before, but Yamato couldn't remember.

"Clara Lowell! The delicate lady I went on dates with lately!"

"Wait, are you talking about the Clara Lowell? The director of a massive fashion brand?" Mitsuki shouted. "How the hell did you manage to convince her?"

"_Oh_, talent, Mitsuki, talent."

In this regard, Nagi was different from his friend. He was so confident in himself he sometimes failed to understand that his talent wasn't the only reason he was popular. Of course, he was very gifted, it was undeniable. For instance, how many languages did he talk? Eight? Nine? And hadn't he mastered a martial art whose name Yamato completely forgot?

"Social connections, huh", he murmured.

Mitsuki heard, since he said: "Oh, you can talk, Yamato-san. As if you didn't have any! I'm the only one who needs to do all the work by myself."

Yamato felt ashamed of himself. "Well, Mitsuki... you have more merit than us, it's true." Nagi nodded, even though he was so proud of himself a few seconds ago. "You can proudly say you didn't need help to succeed. I can't say the same thing."

He was bitter just thinking about it. He paled in comparison to Mitsuki: everything was offered to him on a silver plate, and even so, he hadn't worked for months. Except for a small job he finally quitted after he kept being compared to his father. Yamato had no idea how they managed to know who he was (even Mitsuki and Nagi didn't, when the latter was a huge fan of his dad). It had something to do with an expression he never had with his friend, stormy and bored.

So what did he have to offer, when he refused to believe in his own talent?

"Yamato-san, I... I get it, you don't want to take advantage of string-pulling, but you have luck, and you're a wonderful actor."

"Your drama always move my heart!" Nagi added, his tone melodramatic. "When your eyes scream revenge but your mouth pretends everything's fine, oh! how painful for the viewer who can only watch, powerless!"

Yamato blushed. He wasn't used to getting compliments on his actor play, even if he knew it was good; and it was embarrassing to see himself on a screen so he avoided it as much as possible.

However, he couldn't pretend he hated the job; if anything, he _wanted_ to be an actor. Playing a role was exhilarating. It allowed him to escape from his reality, to become another one for a few hours, to have another way of thinking, new preoccupations, new anxieties.

He was sure Mitsuki and Nagi had understood it too, long before he himself realized. But what could he do?

"Let's say I'm trying another audition", he said, "there's always Yuki-san."

Mitsuki frowned. "Yamato-san, if your only reason not to pursue your dream is him, then you need to call yourself into question."

Of course, things were more complicated. It wasn't that he hated Yuki; he only preferred if the older man stayed away from him. And then there was his father's heritage, a burden on his shoulders. His father, hurt by the fact that his talented son wouldn't follow in his footsteps. But was it truly worth it?

Yamato didn't have a reason to give up anymore.

"Alright, understood, I'll do my best." His friends' faces lightened, and he thought his promise might hold some value. He wasn't trying to displease some people, no, he was trying for himself, because two wonderful men believed in him.

He stood up to switch the light on and said: "Do you want to stay for dinner?"


End file.
